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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29345331">We All Need To Sleep At Night - A Mandalorian One-Shot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Nebula_Twilight/pseuds/Lavender_Nebula_Twilight'>Lavender_Nebula_Twilight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, Din Djarin Whump, Din Has A Panic Attack, Din has really bad anxiety with his helmet off, Enjoy the whump everybody, Episode: s02e07 The Believer, Gen, I love this alliance so much, I wrote the panic attack based on experience, Mayfeld POV, Mayfeld and Din unlikely friendship, Mayfeld please come back for season 3, Panic Attack Vomiting, Second chapter we get Mayfeld's side of this, Worried Mayfeld, guys din needs therapy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:14:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29345331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Nebula_Twilight/pseuds/Lavender_Nebula_Twilight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>During the mission on Morak, Din's mental strength is put to the test. After the exchange with Valin Hess, Din has a severe panic attack in the hallway with only Mayfeld to help him through it. MASSIVE Din whump with a Mayfeld and Din friendship. Rated T for violence and language.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin &amp; Migs Mayfeld</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We All Need To Sleep At Night - A Mandalorian One-Shot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks for clicking on my Mandalorian One-Shot: We All Need To Sleep At Night!</p><p>Okay, so the Believer broke me; I pretty much had a mental breakdown when Din took off his helmet (i have a reaction on my YT channel Lavender Twilight :P)– shaking, screaming, agh it was amazing and I loved every second of it. Immediately afterward, I started looking for fanfiction, seeing what people had cooked up about this new dynamic duo, Din and Migs. There were plenty of angsty ones, but then I got an idea: What if Din had a panic attack sometime during the mission and Mayfeld has to help him out of it? No one's really done it yet. BONDING AND WHUMP STORY UNITE 3</p><p>Anyways so that's what I did.</p><p>i also just tend to be really proud of my panic attack scenes and they stem from experience with anxiety attacks in the middle of the night sooooo ugh but also yay? REDEEMING THE BAD TIMES :D</p><p>WARNING: There are brief mentions of suicide, nothing big, just Mayfeld mentions it in relation to Burnin Konn. Just a lil fyi :)</p><p>I love reviews also! And not because I'm bragging and I want y'all to tell me how great I am. Do you come across a chapter that you think could be improved upon? Some error you notice? Tell me! I strive to improve. :D But if you really like a chapter or something, again, let me know!</p><p>So, I think that's it! I hope you will stick around, review, favorite, follow, all that cool stuff. :D</p><p>Without further ado, please enjoy We All Need To Sleep At Night!</p><p>Enjoy!</p><p>Disclaimer:</p><p>I do not own the Mandalorian TV show, the Star Wars franchise, or any of the characters. That all belongs to their original makers. Everything to them. Any added dialogue, plots, or characters are mine, but nothing else. I don't own it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I can't go in there."</p><p>I grab Mayfeld's arm. "Why not?"</p><p>His forehead scrunches. "That's Valin Hess."</p><p>"Who?" I lean in closer.</p><p>"It's Valin Hess. I used to serve under him."</p><p>"Will he recognize you?"</p><p>"I don't know." Mayfeld works his jaw. "I was just a field operative, but I'm not takin' the chance. It's over."</p><p>I catch him as he tries to leave. "Let's just do this quick and we can get out of here."</p><p>Mayfeld's face shadows and he shakes his head. "I can't do it, okay? We have to abort, I'm sorry." He starts to push against me.</p><p>"No." I hold him back. <em>Please, I have to do this. </em>"I can't."</p><p>Mayfeld's eyes cut through me.</p><p>"If we don't get those coordinates, I'll lose the kid forever."</p><p>He averts his gaze.</p><p>"Give me the data stick."</p><p>"It's not gonna work." He bites back with a fierce whisper.</p><p>"It will."</p><p>"Trust me, it won't."</p><p>"Why not?" My voice hardens.</p><p>Mayfeld pauses, staring into the distance. "In order to access the network, the terminal has to scan your face."</p><p>My heart almost stops beating altogether. Immediately, I'm dizzy. It's harder to breathe. <em>It has to scan your face. My face. My helmet, I'd…</em> I look past his shoulder into the mess hall. <em>Would I? Would I?</em></p><p>"Let's go."</p><p>
  <em>For Grogu.</em>
</p><p>"Give it to me." I whip the data stick from his hand and walk forward. I ascend the steps, one by one. I can't even feel my legs anymore. I can't feel my boots hitting the stone. Mayfeld's eyes hollow me out from behind and I know he's watching me. I mount the stairs and freeze at the top, saluting Valin Hess. But only for a moment's pause. I move again. Toward the terminal. Toward the coordinates.</p><p>
  <em>I can't do this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's for Grogu.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm not strong enough.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, you are.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe it'll recognize my helmet. Maybe it won't need my face. Maybe I won't need to remove it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe I won't need to.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I won't need to.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm fine.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll be fine.</em>
</p><p>And then I'm there, my hands punching in the buttons on the terminal.</p><p>The screen blinks up and a scanner graph flickers over my helmet. The beams of light cut through my visor as the seconds pass, as the terminal scans.</p><p>I'm numb.</p><p>I can't move.</p><p>I can't breathe.</p><p>
  <em>Maybe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please!</em>
</p><p>The screen goes red– RED– and a robotic voice rebukes me.</p><p>"<em>Error. Error. Facial scan incomplete.</em>"</p><p>My stomach crunches in knots and I glance toward the officers.</p><p>Watching me.</p><p>
  <em>Dank ferrik!</em>
</p><p>"<em>Ten seconds to system shutdown.</em>"</p><p>In a few, heart-crushing, nauseous seconds, I choose.</p><p>I grip both sides of the helmet and lift.</p><p>Up, up, up–</p><p>OFF.</p><p>The raw air settles on my skin. The hum of silence deafens me. Everything slams into me– the sounds, the smells, the sights, the cold, the tingle of nervousness– I hear the mumbles of stormtroopers, the whining of boots on the stone, the clink of lunch trays, the snapping of the automated voice counting down the seconds to my failure:</p><p>"<em>Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.</em>"</p><p>I restart the facial scan.</p><p>"<em>Five. Four.</em>"</p><p>Scan up.</p><p>"<em>Three.</em>"</p><p>Scanning…</p><p>"<em>Two.</em>"</p><p>Scanning…</p><p>Pause.</p><p>"<em>Facial scan complete.</em>"</p><p>Access Granted.</p><p>The sweat clinging to my skin surrenders and pours off of me. Every muscle is as tense as a cocked blaster. I hit another button and shove the data stick in the access point. The system whirs. My eyes dart around on the screen. My body is so rigid that the locking of my knees hurts.</p><p>A diagram of Moff Gideon's ship loads on the screen and a star map appears. A loading bar winks into existence. Now to wait.</p><p>Wait.</p><p>Again, I can feel eyes on me. Too many eyes.</p><p>My heartbeat pounds in my ears, pulse by pulse, beat by beat, ticking away the numbers to my sanity. I'm shaking so hard that I'm surprised I haven't fallen over.</p><p>"Trooper!"</p><p>The officer from earlier. Valin Hess.</p><p>Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him get up. Start walking. Towards me.</p><p>Black spots flicker over my vision and the dizziness comes again. I grip the edge of the terminal, wheezing. The ground sways under my feet and I grit my teeth. <em>Come on, keep it together. Don't pass out, don't pass out, don't–</em></p><p>"Hey, trooper!"</p><p>Then he's upon me, his shadow mixing with mine.</p><p>I squeeze my eyes shut and rip the data stick from the terminal, turning towards him. Directly.</p><p>Our eyes meet and nausea hits me hard.</p><p>He sees it. He must.</p><p>The terror in my eyes.</p><p>There is no barrier now.</p><p>And I'm terrified.</p><p>"Pay attention when a superior addresses you." His eyes rake across my exposed body.</p><p>The dizziness slices everything in two. I can barely hear him speak, let alone focus on the mission. I'm a second away from going down, collapsing right where I stand. Sweat soaks my gear, dripping down my legs, neck, chest. My clothes stick to my skin like glue. My chest squeezes like I've just run a marathon across the galaxy and it's getting harder to breathe. His presence is suffocating and as he stands there, staring right into my vulnerable, glazed eyes, I know:</p><p>
  <em>I can't do this.</em>
</p><p>"What's your designation?"</p><p>My mouth streaks as dry as Tatooine. I swallow hard. "Transport crew."</p><p>Hess narrows his eyes. "What?"</p><p>I find my voice again, however raspy. "My designation is transport co-pilot."</p><p>"No, son." His eyes, those eyes… They pierce and carve into me, hollowing out every shred of strength. "What's your TK number?"</p><p>The blood drains from my face and the room sways in my vision. "My TK number…is…"</p><p>"Uh-huh…"</p><p>
  <em>It's over. I'm done.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can't do this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can't.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Help.</em>
</p><p>Before I know it, Mayfeld's bald head pops into my view and he comes to my side. Only then do I notice that he's talking.</p><p>"This is my Commanding Officer TK-593, sir." He glances at me, then back at Hess. "I'm Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant TK-111, sir."</p><p>Mayfeld, the bully, the killer, the ex-Imperial sharpshooter who would never save me even if I was bleeding out in front of him, who shoved me in an Imperial cell, who nagged me to no end about the Way, who's never seen me as anything other than a threat and a nuisance…is saving me.</p><p>I can't look at him. I can't.</p><p>My eyes fixate on the floor and I take in the conversation.</p><p>"I'm afraid you'll have to speak up to him a little bit…"</p><p>He pauses.</p><p>
  <em>Wait, he's looking at me.</em>
</p><p>I snap my head toward him, probably a little too fast. Our eyes meet–</p><p>And due to the question in his gaze, I know he sees.</p><p>I'm terrified.</p><p>He's never seen me like this.</p><p>"…since his vessel lost pressure in Tanaab."</p><p>
  <em>Oh, so I'm half-deaf now?</em>
</p><p>Hess turns to me. "What's your name, Officer?" His stained, crooked teeth glint as he yells at me.</p><p>My eyebrows twitch.</p><p>He tilts his head, expecting an answer.</p><p>Still, I can't find the words. I can't speak.</p><p>Mayfeld saves me again. "We just call him Brown Eyes. Isn't that right, Officer?"</p><p>I force myself to turn and nod.</p><p>"Come on, let's go fill out those TPS reports so we can go recharge the power coils." Mayfeld grabs my arm and we walk around Hess, aiming for the exit.</p><p>I can hear the superior scoff and return to his seat.</p><p>Everything goes into tunnel vision as we retreat. My head pounds like the Armorer smashed my skull with a hammer and blood roars in my ears. I stumble over the steps like I've never walked before.</p><p>Mayfeld seizes my arm with both hands and yanks me the rest of the way down. The ex-Imperial maneuvers through the crowd, half-dragging me, and ducks into a hallway. Panting, he taps my shoulder. "Hey, Brown Eyes, that was close!"</p><p>His voice is distant, echoing on the edges of my consciousness.</p><p>And when the cold of the shadows floods over me, the bustle of the trooper crowd fades, and the monstrous slamming of my heart drowns out everything else, the panic starts.</p><p>I lean against the wall, gasping. <em>I can't breathe, I can't breathe! </em>The crowd noise from before rushes into me, filling my ears, my head, with all the footsteps, talking, squeaking, engines, guns, armor, all the noises, screaming, rattling around in my skull.</p><p>"Come on, man. We've gotta get on the rooftop."</p><p>My chest squeezes so hard that I'm wheezing. Every breath rasps through my throat like fire and my body trembles uncontrollably.</p><p>Somewhere, a hand takes my shoulder. Somewhere, Mayfeld talks to me.</p><p>
  <em>I broke the Creed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I broke it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Creed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can't be a Mandalorian.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm not a Mandalorian.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mandalorian.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mando…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Din…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Djarin…</em>
</p><p>My knees buckle and I collapse. Hands scramble nearby and someone catches me. Gasping, I clamp my hands around my ears as memory after memory surges over me like blaster fire.</p><p>
  <em>"Have you ever removed your helmet?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"No."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Has it ever been removed by others?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Never."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"This is the Way."</em>
</p><p>Never again. Never again can I be truthful before the Armorer. I'll be cast out, thrown into the streets for showing my face. To enemies. To those who want me dead anyway.</p><p>
  <em>"You're not going alone. I'm coming with you."</em>
</p><p>I took it off. Everyone can see me. Friends, family, allies, enemies, Imperials, imps. My body's prickling, trembling, shutting down, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe–</p><p>I double over, hyperventilating. Somewhere, Mayfeld's talking to me. Hands grab my shoulders. Tears burn in my eyes. My nails cut into my temples as I grip my head and squeeze. Someone's sobbing, it might be me, and madness as dark as blood crawls closer.</p><p>
  <em>I'm going insane, I'm going insane–</em>
</p><p>I choke on my own breath and collapse into a coughing fit. My body goes numb, I can't speak, I can't feel, I can't move, I can't–</p><p>
  <em>I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm going mad.</em>
</p><p>Heat washes over me like a wave, then gives way to an icy cold. Hot, cold. Hot, cold. Over and over and over again.</p><p>Blood screams in my ears, rushing, pumping, accompanying the vicious thumping of my heart. I try to open my eyes, but the dizziness swerves everything out of place.</p><p>Mayfeld's voice crackles like a broken radio through my ears.</p><p>"It's– Brown Eyes– All right– You're okay– ."</p><p>
  <em>"Trooper!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Pay attention when a superior addresses you. What's your designation?"</em>
</p><p>Chills rip through my body and I'm gasping, panting, breathing so hard I might pass out–</p><p>
  <em>I can't breathe, I can't breathe!</em>
</p><p>My mouth waters, and through the choking, the coughing, I feel it.</p><p>
  <em>Damn it, I'm gonna be sick…!</em>
</p><p>I twist away from Mayfeld, lean over, and vomit, shaking so hard I almost keel over.</p><p>Someone curses beside me, probably Mayfeld, and a hand rests on my shoulder.</p><p>I slump against the wall, wheezing, my limbs crumpling beneath me. Emptying my stomach should've helped, but the nausea prevails, churning through my body, and I know I'm gonna throw up again. Sweat pours down my face and my chest aches like someone's crushing my ribs from the inside.</p><p>I start whispering to no one, begging, pleading myself to hold on, hold on, hold on, just one second at a time, one heartbeat at a time. My thoughts wage war inside me:</p><p>
  <em>Just breathe, Din. Breathe. It's gonna be okay. It'll be okay.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm going mad. I'm insane. I'm crazy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You know how to deal with this. You'll survive.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm dying. I'm dying.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I promise you, you'll survive. Just breathe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can't breathe! I can't!</em>
</p><p>The surge of nausea returns. I hunch over and throw up again, tears welling in my eyes. I heave up everything in my stomach, coughing, and when there's nothing left, my body keeps going. Eventually, the painful dry-heaving brings some bile up and out.</p><p>Everything restarts: the flashbacks, the shivering, the–</p><p>"Brown Eyes, listen to me!"</p><p>
  <em>Mayfeld?</em>
</p><p>"Breathe! You gotta breathe! Listen to me and do what I do."</p><p>Mayfeld takes my arm and leans me against the wall. Somewhere in the distance, I hear him breathing.</p><p>In…and out.</p><p>Rest.</p><p>In…and out.</p><p>I begin to copy him and the nausea abates.</p><p>Slowly, ever so slowly…</p><p>I…</p><p>Come…</p><p>Back.</p><p>Mayfeld's blurry frame coalesces in front of me, his face pale. He withdraws, lifting his hands. "Whoa, okay. You're looking at me."</p><p>I blink hard, fighting to focus.</p><p>"You are, right?" He snaps in front of my face. "Brown Eyes? You with me?"</p><p>Moaning, I nod. I go limp, my head tilting back against the wall. I'm still shivering like a beast. I shut my eyes, blocking out Mayfeld's stare.</p><p>"That-that was one hell of a panic attack, Mando." Mayfeld claps me on the shoulder.</p><p>"M-Mayfeld." I wince at how raspy my voice is. "I-I…"</p><p>The ex-Imperial smirks. "You rest for a minute, Brown Eyes. You look horrible."</p><p>My eyelids drop and I slump against the wall. I can't argue with him. Even if I wanted to, I don't have the strength. Fatigue seeps into my bones like a poison as I allow my body a hiatus.</p><p>Only then does it really sink in.</p><p>I just had a panic attack. In front of Mayfeld. My helmet's off. My helmet. "My helmet…"</p><p>Mayfeld glances around. "I'll go get it for you. Just wait here, okay?"</p><p>I nod, and Mayfeld moves out of my line of sight.</p><p>I must've blacked out for a moment, because when Mayfeld returns, I don't remember anything in between.</p><p>He holds the helmet out to me, his eyes carrying no hint of jest or scorn. "You did what you had to do. I never saw your face." He presses the Stormtrooper helmet into my lap and offers me his hand. "Come on, Brown Eyes."</p><p>After another glance at the helmet, I take his hand, and he hauls me to my feet. I sway, groaning, as my head pounds with a migraine.</p><p>Mayfeld grips my arm and supports me. "Steady, Brown Eyes. Take it easy." He scans me. "You good?"</p><p>I blink a few times to focus. "Y-yeah. Thanks."</p><p>"All right. Now, let's make our way to the roof."</p>
<hr/><p>"Hand me the cycler rifle!"</p><p>I shove the weapon into his hands.</p><p>Mayfeld aims, pauses for a split second, then hits the trigger.</p><p>The base explodes into a gorgeous wreath of fire, twirling up like fireworks.</p><p>I watch the scene unfold. <em>Damn, Mayfeld…</em></p><p>
  <em>"No, I don't just know it. I lived it. I was in Burnin Konn."</em>
</p><p>Mayfeld catches my eye before ducking into the shadows. "We all need to sleep at night."</p><p>The weight of his words drains my adrenaline and the fatigue comes rushing back. As the Slave I moves away, I stagger to a seat and strap myself in. A huge sigh deflates from my chest and I lay my head back. My body screams for rest, but I can't sleep just yet.</p><p>I have the coordinates. I know where Gideon is.</p><p>
  <em>Grogu, I'm coming.</em>
</p><p>"Hey, Brown Eyes."</p><p>I jerk my head up at Mayfeld's voice.</p><p>"Whoa, calm down." He cross-examines me, his eyes holding something akin to worry. Migs Mayfeld? Worried about me? Never.</p><p>Right?</p><p>"You okay?"</p><p>I shrug. "Yeah. I just need some sleep."</p><p>He scoffs. "I can tell. You sound like a sick TaunTaun."</p><p>I turn my head to stare out the window at Morak's jungle. A yawn cracks my jaws open wide.</p><p>"Mando."</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"It'll be a while until Shand and the Marshal get back from their post. You should have thirty, maybe forty-five minutes to get some shut-eye if you want."</p><p>I raise my eyebrows. "Why do you care this much?"</p><p>My ally shrugs. "Hell, I really don't know. After seein' you in there, it showed me that you're not just some scary guy in a suit of Mandalorian armor." He gives me a genuine smile, something I've never seen out of him. "You're just a guy. We're just two men making our way in a galaxy of chaos." Mayfeld looks back at the base, which still burns with the weight of his choice. "I saw you in there. For who you are, not who I'd pictured you to be. My bias is gone, I can assure you."</p><p>I wring my hands in my lap and let silence fill the gaps.</p><p>"You're a damn good dad, Mando. Anyone with half a brain could see it."</p><p>Unexpected tears sting in my eyes.</p><p>He glances over at me, another smile tickling his features. "Yeah, I meant it. I mean, you've been sworn to these rules, this Creed, for how long now? Two decades? And you took it off, just like that, for a kid that hasn't even been yours for more than a few months?" He chuckles, crossing one leg over the other. "Hell, that's love, Mando. Can't argue with me on that."</p><p>The tears fall, trickling down my cheeks and meeting at my chin. I swallow down a sob, but a strangled noise comes out.</p><p>Mayfeld quirks an eyebrow at me. "Go get some rest, Brown Eyes. You need it."</p><p>I smirk and, without another word, retreat to my bunk.</p><p>My limbs drag on the ground as I enter the room. I find Grogu's metal ball, hold it close to my heart, and curl myself around it, as if this tiny object can somehow block out the sound of my heart breaking.</p><p>
  <em>I'm on my way, Grogu.</em>
</p><p>And with that, still dressed as a Stormtrooper, I pass out cold in the darkness of the Slave I.</p>
<hr/><p>"Hey, Brown Eyes, wake up!"</p><p>A hand on my shoulder jolts me awake. My eyes shoot open to the dusky tint of the Stormtrooper visor and Mayfeld's face hovers in my vision.</p><p>He smirks. "Damn, you're so jumpy, Mando."</p><p>I raise myself up on my elbows, a mild ache pulsing through my temples.</p><p>"How're you feelin'?"</p><p>I clear my throat and get to my feet. "Better. Head still hurts. What's going on?"</p><p>"The Marshal just radioed Fett. They'll be here in a few minutes. You should probably get your Mando suit back on."</p><p>"Right. Thanks." I slide the bag of armor into the middle of the room and meet his gaze.</p><p>Mayfeld stares right back. "What?"</p><p>I gesture to the main hull.</p><p>"Oh. Right." He clicks his tongue and departs, whistling.</p><p>Twenty minutes later, Mayfeld and I trudge out of the Slave I and meet Cara and Fennec emerging from the jungle.</p><p>The ex-Imperial sighs out a raspberry. "Well, looks like it's back to the scrap heap."</p><p>I shift my weight from one foot to the other. "Thank you for helping."</p><p>"Yeah." Mayfeld averts his gaze. "Uh… Good luck gettin' your kid back."</p><p>A pang runs through my heart and I swallow hard.</p><p>"All right, Officer." He slaps his wrists together and holds them out to Cara. "Take me back."</p><p>Cara doesn't move. "That was some nice shootin' back there."</p><p>"Oh, you saw that?" Mayfeld exchanges a glance with me. "Yeah, that, uh…that wasn't part of the plan. I was just…gettin' some stuff off my chest."</p><p>I smile at him, and I know that, even through the helmet, Mayfeld can feel it.</p><p>Cara turns to face me. "Y'know, it's too bad Mayfeld didn't make it out alive back there."</p><p>I quirk an eyebrow. "Yeah. Too bad."</p><p>Mayfeld looks from me to Cara and back. "What are you talkin' about?"</p><p>Cara smirks. "Looked to me like prisoner number three-four-six-six-seven died in the refinery explosion on Morak."</p><p>Silence. The weight of her words settles like dust after a battle.</p><p>"Does that mean I can go?" Mayfeld grins. "Huh? 'Cause I will." He backs up a few steps.</p><p>I jerk my head in the jungle's direction.</p><p>"All right. Okay." My ally chuckles, backing up into the jungle.</p><p>"You get the coordinates on Moff Gideon?"</p><p>"We did."</p><p>"What's our next move?"</p><p>"Get to him. Get the kid. Get out."</p><p>Cara winks at me. "Then let's get going. You've got a son to save."</p><p>I follow her up the hatch, one step at a time.</p><p>
  <em>"Hell, that's love, Mando. Can't argue with me on that."</em>
</p><p>I pause on the way into the ship.</p><p>
  <em>"Breathe! You gotta breathe!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I saw you in there. For who you are, not who I'd pictured you to be."</em>
</p><p>I look back in the direction Mayfeld had gone.</p><p>Cara comes to my side. "Mando? What is it?"</p><p>"Give me a minute." I dismount the hatch. "Mayfeld?"</p><p>No answer.</p><p>I descend into the gorge. "Mayfeld!"</p><p>The ex-Imperial shuffles out from behind some bushes and shields his eyes from the sun.</p><p>"Wait!" I hurry toward him.</p><p>"What? You change your mind about my freedom?"</p><p>"No." I shake my head. "You're free to go."</p><p>"So what's the problem?"</p><p>"Mayfeld… Thank you. Truly."</p><p>He doesn't say anything, and instead, waits in silence.</p><p>"You didn't have to do what you did back there. But you chose to slip in and be my lifeline." My voice trembles, and I let it.</p><p>"You needed it, Mando. Anyone could see it."</p><p>"And I'm sorry about Burnin Konn. I really am."</p><p>Mayfeld blinks slowly, nodding. "It's a mental health day for both of us. It's done, and you've given me a chance at starting over. Thank you for that."</p><p>I hold out my hand, and we shake. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that. Panicking and…unstable."</p><p>"Don't worry about it. Believe it or not, I've had my fair share of attacks too." The sunlight hits his face and…</p><p>Are those tears?</p><p>Mayfeld works his jaw. "After Burnin Konn, I just gave up."</p><p>"On what?"</p><p>"On everything." Mayfeld scoffs, smirking, but I can tell that he's forcing it. "I thought that…being Imperial, I didn't deserve a second chance. I'd chosen my side, and my mind couldn't run from it. After Burnin Konn, after I escaped, the nightmares started. The attacks, the drinking, the…" Mayfeld sucks in a breath, and only then do I notice that he's trembling.</p><p>"Mayfeld– ."</p><p>"I almost chose to end it." He rubs his bald head, sighing. "Don't know why I didn't. Ran found me, recruited me for criminal work, and that was it. You know what happened after that."</p><p>I approach him and squeeze his shoulder. "You're a good man, Mayfeld."</p><p>"Oh, I wouldn't go that far."</p><p>"I would and I am."</p><p>"Mando, I've done bad things."</p><p>"Well, so have I!" My grip tightens on his shoulder. "I've killed too many, and cared too little. I get nightmares too. Like you said, we're all the same. We're just two men making our way in a galaxy of chaos. We're all a little messed up."</p><p>Mayfeld laughs. "I'll say."</p><p>"Mayfeld, because of you, I have a chance at getting my son back. He means more to me than you know."</p><p>His face breaks into a smile. "That's bullshit, Mando. I know how much you love the kid. Like I said, anyone could see it. But too many families were ripped apart in Burnin Konn. I couldn't bear to see you go without him once I saw how much you cared. Too many Burnin Konn survivors chose to…you know…leave life behind when their families died. I've seen your desperation before in the guys I served with and I know it would drive you mad not to get the kid back."</p><p>I give him a heavy nod. "Thank you so much."</p><p>"You're welcome, Mando."</p><p>"It's Din."</p><p>Mayfeld halts. "What? Bless you?"</p><p>"My name. Din Djarin."</p><p>The ex-Imperial squints at me, his cheeks rounding into a smile. "I knew your name wasn't Mando."</p><p>I back up a few steps. "And I'm sorry, Mayfeld. About everything."</p><p>"Yeah, me too." He waves me on. "Go on, get out of here before I get even sappier with you."</p><p>I surrender to a light laugh.</p><p>"Whoa, did you just laugh?"</p><p>"Take care, Migs."</p><p>Mayfeld dips his head. "You too…Din. Now go steal back the little, green guy. I'm sure he's waitin' for ya."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>YAY! I'm so glad to finally have this up! This has been in my head for about a month now, and it's finally done!</p><p>I LOVE DIN WHUMP A LITTLE TOO MUCH OK</p><p>I have written a few other Din whump one-shots on the site and I've made plenty of Mandalorian edits on my YT channel with more to come so go and check that stuff out if ya want :D</p><p>Read and review!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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